


he can't win.

by idiolects



Category: DOGS - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 01:13:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiolects/pseuds/idiolects
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>also warnings for pseudo-incest and eye squick.</p>
    </blockquote>





	he can't win.

**Author's Note:**

> also warnings for pseudo-incest and eye squick.

"That's not _fair_ ," Heine hisses steam into winter air. He isn't a dragon; there are no flames or else Giovanni would've been burned long ago. 

"Of course it isn't." Giovanni is soothing, a finger on his lips to shush him. "But that's just how it goes." 

He reaches down and palms Heine's stomach, delicately, and keeps his hand against Heine's face. His sunglasses are still on, so Heine can see his reflection, duplicated, malformed. There are fingers on the left side of his hip, smooth and cool, and two more extend upwards to brush his eyelids closed. 

" _Shh_ ," Giovanni says. "Breathe. Don't forget to feel it." Heine doesn't forget. He never forgets. Giovanni's fingers press into his waist and into his eye sockets and he _feels_ it, feels his eyes crunching into pulp with the raw force and his back is against the wall and his mouth open in pain and the ropes cutting into his arms as he lurches in reaction and distantly, Giovanni. Giovanni everywhere, Giovanni all over him like a lingering scent of formaldehyde and rubbing alcohol. 

_Shhhh,_ he says again. Underneath the streaks of blood he feels hot quick breath on his face, faster than before, because he gets off on it, he really does, and Heine lets this happen every time. 

_Shhh._

"Mother was reading a new book yesterday." The blood is already drying, his eyes are beginning to rebuild. "From the old country." Heine breathes, feels a cry of childish terror welling up like it usually does, because he never forgets. 

Giovanni waits, and Heine enjoys, briefly, imagining the displeased frown creasing his brother's face. 

"Don't you want to know what it was?" 

It takes Heine a moment to get past the blood in his mouth: "I didn't think you needed your big brother's assurances anymore, Giovanni." 

He must be frowning, Heine thinks, and is proved wrong when he feels lips pressed to his forehead, curved into a smile. Heine imagines Giovanni on his tip-toes to reach him, and sighs. 

"Heine, Heine, Heine. Brother dearest" — Heine's name is like a slur on Giovanni's serpent-tongue. "I just wanted to ask, to be polite. But of course _you_ wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" 

Fingers curl into his hair, as he pauses thoughtfully. 

"No, of course not." 

The fingers pull, and Giovanni mashes their teeth together in a thorough way, licking his lips until his mouth opens again, but then, that's mostly because there's a hand ripping into the veins of his right forearm. Giovanni is firm and warm against him, heavy like he never was when they were children. 

" _The Rabbit on the Moon,_ " Giovanni draws back to tell him. He leans against Heine's heaving chest, one arm looped casually around the back of his neck. Protective. "A children's story. Then she gave it to Luki and Noki — your sisters, don't you remember them?" 

Heine nods, stiffly. His eyelids are crusted with sticky red and he wants to rub it away. 

"They liked it rather more than she did, I think." 

Giovanni sighs into his mouth, and turns Heine's face towards him with both hands. "We ought to go to the bookstore together sometime," he says, as if he's just thought of it. "And we could play a game. Because we all love you, brother Heine." 

"Get off of me." 

"Yes, I think I will." A hand pats the side of his face, another pets his hair. "Still, think about it. You and me, the bookstore? ...ah, that is, if you want to leave your room. I can't imagine why you would, admittedly. It _is_ quite cozy in here, isn't it?"

(There is blood all over the ground. It's on the walls, and ceiling, too.)

The noises in his spine grow as he twists, but he still can't reach Giovanni. 

"Oh, you're enthusiastic today! I'm _e_ ver so glad. Then, brother, we'll have to do a little more exercise today, then, won't we?"

Later he mouths _brother_ again and Heine only knows because he has learned to read Giovanni's lips by touch.


End file.
